1. The Beautiful, Inevitable Implosion of TV Love
And so it begins again. The sequined costumes are aired out, the spray tans are applied, and another batch of hopeful C-listers are paired with genetically perfect dance professionals in a televised mating ritual we call ‘Dancing with the Stars.’ But let’s call it what it really is: a high-budget, beautifully choreographed demolition derby for relationships. We all watch, pretending it’s about the Cha-Cha, when we’re really just waiting for the car crash. It’s glorious. A perfect spectacle.
Because the real prize isn’t that tacky Mirrorball trophy. Oh no. The real prize is a six-to-eighteen-month romance, plastered across every tabloid, complete with a cutesy couple name, followed by the inevitable, soul-crushing public breakup announced via a sterile Instagram notes app screenshot. It’s a tale as old as reality television itself, a formula so predictable you could set your watch to it. And yet, we can’t look away. We are suckers for it.
The Cycle of Sequins and Sorrow
They meet under the hot studio lights, their bodies pressed together for eight hours a day, practicing lifts that are more intimate than most people’s marriages. And they fall into a ‘showmance,’ a portmanteau so plastic and cynical it could only have been born in a Hollywood production meeting. But the sheer pressure cooker environment, the shared ‘journey,’ the adrenaline of live performance—it creates a powerful illusion of love. It’s a fleeting, beautiful lie we all agree to believe in for a season.
2. The Petri Dish of Manufactured Passion
Why does this happen with such clockwork regularity? It’s not magic, it’s science. Social science. You take two attractive people, isolate them from their normal lives, and force them into a state of extreme physical and emotional vulnerability. You make them rely on each other for survival in a high-stakes competition. It’s basically the Stanford Prison Experiment with more glitter and less overt psychological torture. Basically.
And the physical contact is relentless. The pros are tasked with molding celebrity clay into something resembling a dancer, and that requires constant, hands-on manipulation. Their bodies learn each other’s rhythms before their minds even have a chance to catch up. So when they say they have ‘chemistry,’ what they really mean is they’ve achieved a level of non-sexual intimacy that hijacks the brain’s reward centers and fools it into thinking it’s found a soulmate. It’s a beautiful, tragic, and highly-rated trick.
3. Our Latest Sacrificial Lambs: A Romance From The Future
The latest headline-grabbers are pros Emma Slater and Alan Bersten, who, according to a report that seemingly time-traveled, ‘hard launched their romance in April 2025.’ Yes, 2025. Don’t question it. Maybe the source is a psychic, or maybe the press release was just written with terrifying efficiency. Or perhaps the whole affair is so pre-destined, so utterly inevitable, that the universe simply leaked the script a year early. It doesn’t matter.
But this is what makes it so perfect. Their romance already feels like a ghost, a foregone conclusion before it has even properly begun in our timeline. We are watching the prequel to a breakup that is already written in the stars—the dancing ones, that is. They’ll smile for the cameras, post adorable behind-the-scenes TikToks, and give breathless interviews about how they ‘just connect on a different level.’ We’ll watch, we’ll ‘aww,’ and we’ll quietly start the countdown clock. Because we know how this ends. The show demands a narrative, and the most compelling narrative is always the rise and fall.
4. A Walk Through the Graveyard of Showmances Past
Let’s pour one out for the fallen. The list of couples who found ‘love’ in the ballroom only to see it disintegrate in the harsh light of reality is longer than a season finale. Remember Mario Lopez and Karina Smirnoff? A fiery passion that ended in a dramatic split. Or what about a staggering statistic that keeps popping up: out of 21 couples who supposedly met and fell for each other on the show, only a paltry 6 are still together. That’s a success rate of about 28%. You have a better chance of a lasting relationship by swiping right on Tinder while blindfolded.
Because the show is not the real world. In the ballroom, your biggest problem is nailing the frame on your Viennese Waltz. In the real world, your biggest problem is who forgot to take out the recycling and why your partner is still friends with their ex on Instagram. The skills that make you a great dance couple—unwavering focus, physical synchronization, performing for an audience—are not the skills that make a relationship work. In fact, they might be the opposite.
5. The Cautionary Tale of Kaitlyn Bristowe
And then we have cases like Kaitlyn Bristowe. She came, she saw, she conquered. She walked away with that glorious Mirrorball in 2020. But the narrative around her wasn’t just about her dancing. Oh no. The rumor mill was churning, linking her with this person and that person, because the audience has been conditioned to expect a romance. It’s part of the package deal.
Kaitlyn, a veteran of ‘The Bachelorette,’ knows the reality TV romance game better than anyone. She played the part, kept her head down, and focused on the prize. She got a trophy, not a temporary boyfriend, which in the grand scheme of ‘Dancing with the Stars,’ makes her one of the smartest players in the show’s history. She understood the assignment: the show is a career move, not a dating service. The friendships are real; the showmance is just good marketing.
6. The Survivors: Are They Real or Just Better at PR?
But what about the six couples who made it? The rare unicorns who navigated the minefield and came out the other side, still holding hands? Bless their hearts. We have Nikki Bella and Artem Chigvintsev, or the show’s golden couple, Kym Johnson-Herjavec and Robert Herjavec. Are they the exception that proves the rule, or are they just better at managing the transition from TV-land to real life? Or, and this is the cynical joker in me speaking, are they just better at public relations?
Because maintaining a relationship that started under a global microscope requires a Herculean level of effort. Every argument, every rough patch, is magnified. The public feels a sense of ownership over your love story because they watched it unfold. They were there for the first dance, the first ’10,’ the first tearful confessional. Breaking up isn’t just breaking up; it’s disappointing millions of strangers. That’s a pressure that would crack even the strongest of bonds. So for those who survive, I salute you. You either have a love made of industrial-grade steel or a publicist who deserves a raise.
7. The ‘Curse’ Isn’t a Curse, It’s the Business Model
People love to talk about the ‘Dancing with the Stars Curse,’ where established relationships go to die when one partner joins the show. But it’s not a curse. It’s a feature, not a bug. The show is designed to foster an environment where these intense, temporary bonds can flourish. The drama, the speculation, the ‘will they or won’t they’—it drives ratings. A happily married contestant who goes home every night to their spouse is boring. A contestant who might be falling in love with their stunningly attractive dance partner? That’s must-see TV.
And the network knows this. The producers know this. They edit the packages to highlight lingering glances, they ask leading questions in interviews, and they choreograph routines that are basically vertical love scenes. They are not in the business of matchmaking; they are in the business of manufacturing television moments. The collateral damage to people’s actual lives is just the cost of doing business. It’s brutal. It’s cynical. And it works every single time.
8. A Fool’s Guide to Finding ‘Love’ on National TV
So, you’re a semi-famous person and you’ve been offered a spot on the show. You’re thinking, ‘Maybe I’ll find love!’ To which I say: bless your naive heart. But if you must, here’s a satirical guide. First, forget your significant other at home exists. They are now a ‘supportive’ but distant background character. Second, convince yourself that the impossibly beautiful human teaching you to tango is your soulmate. It’s just method acting. Third, monetize it. Get a joint endorsement deal. Do a magazine cover. Ride that wave until it crashes gloriously on the shores of reality. And finally, have your publicist’s breakup statement pre-written. Efficiency is key.
Because you’re not building a relationship. You’re building a brand. You are a product, your partner is a product, and your romance is a limited-time-only bundled offer. Enjoy it while it lasts, because the shelf life is ridiculously short.
9. Predicting the Next Televised Train Wreck
Who’s next? It’s the question that keeps the whole machine running. With every new cast announcement, the speculation begins. Who has the ‘chemistry’? Whose real-life relationship seems a bit rocky? The show is a rotating cast of characters in the same old story. And we’ll be there, popcorn in hand, ready to watch the beautiful, predictable, sequined disaster unfold all over again. Emma Slater and Alan Bersten are just the couple of the moment (or the couple of next year, apparently).
But soon enough, there will be another. And another. The ‘Dancing with the Stars’ romance factory will keep churning out these dazzling, doomed love affairs, and we will keep consuming them. Because in a world of uncertainty, there’s something oddly comforting about a story where you already know the ending. Especially when it’s this entertaining.
